The Dating Industry Has a Responsibility Problem
We need people to invest in themselves and enhance their lives to make for a positive dating culture.
There’s a quiet truth that the dating app industry has spent billions of dollars hoping you never notice: they don’t make money when you find love. They make money when you keep looking.
That’s not cynicism. That’s their business model.
Every time you open Tinder, Hinge, or Bumble, you’re not a person trying to build a life. You’re a monthly active user. A retention metric. A source of subscription revenue that dries up the moment you delete the app for good. The algorithms aren’t optimized to find you a partner; they’re optimized to keep you engaged just enough to stay, but never satisfied enough to leave.
Now ask yourself: has any dating app ever encouraged you to go to therapy? Suggested you work on your finances before dating seriously? Told you that you might need six months to heal before you’re ready? Pushed back on you at all?
No. Because that’s not in their interest.
We Have to Stop Pretending: Dating Apps Are the Problem
There’s a line you hear constantly from dating coaches and relationship professionals: “Don’t villify the apps. They’re just a tool. People meet and get married through them all the time.”
I’m done with that line.
Yes, people meet on apps. Yes, some of them get married. But that statistic, however real, is covering for something the industry doesn’t want to say out loud: the majority of people using these platforms are not getting those results. We’re talking about 70% or more of users who have experienced serious emotional harm, eroded self-worth, chronic disappointment, and a distorted relationship with dating itself; all because they were sold the idea that an app could solve a deeply human problem.
You don’t get to hold up the success stories and ignore the wreckage. That’s not a balanced take; that’s selective vision in service of not rocking the boat.
Here’s what’s actually happening when dating professionals refuse to criticize the apps: they’re being lazy. They don’t want to alienate a potential audience. They don’t want to seem out of touch or anti-technology. So they soften their message, hedge their criticism, and quietly let a broken culture keep running. Meanwhile, real people (their clients, their followers) are continuing to outsource their love lives to algorithms that don’t care if they ever find what they’re looking for.
Dating professionals have a responsibility to the culture. Not just to the individuals who hire them, but to the broader dating ecosystem that everyone is navigating together. If we are not willing to say clearly that something is causing harm, we are part of the problem. Eyes wide open means acknowledging that apps haven’t improved dating culture in many measurable ways, they’ve made it worse. And the people best positioned to say that are the people who work in this industry every single day.
I’m not interested in being diplomatic about damage.
Why Matchmakers Are Built Differently
Here’s something most people don’t think about when they consider professional matchmaking: the quality of our work depends entirely on the quality of our network.
If the people in our pool aren’t emotionally ready, financially stable, or physically taking care of themselves, the matches we make will fail. And failed matches mean a failing business. Unlike a dating app that profits from your loneliness, we profit from your success, which means we are structurally motivated to invest in your wellbeing.
This isn’t charity. It’s alignment.
When a client comes to us carrying unresolved baggage from a divorce, we don’t just take their money and start sending introductions. We have honest conversations about readiness. We refer people to therapists. We talk about what they actually want versus what they think they want. Sometimes we tell people to come back in a few months, not because we don’t want their business, but because introducing them before they’re ready helps no one.
That kind of conversation will never happen inside a dating app. Dating apps are platform businesses, they connect supply and demand at scale and take a fee. The product is access. Matchmaking is a service business, the product is the outcome. One is built to keep you searching. The other is built to help you stop.
The Four Things Dating Apps Will Never Care About
Your mental wellbeing. Swipe culture is documented to increase anxiety, depression, and feelings of inadequacy. The apps know this. They’ve seen the research. They keep the notifications coming anyway. A matchmaker who sends you into dates while you’re in a dark place isn’t doing their job. We have to care about your mental state because it directly affects the outcome we’re both working toward.
Your physical health. This isn’t about appearance: it’s about energy, confidence, and showing up as your best self. Someone who’s neglecting their health is often signaling something deeper. We notice. We have conversations. We encourage people to invest in themselves before they invest in a relationship. An app just serves you more profiles.
Your financial situation. Money stress is one of the leading causes of relationship failure. Someone who is drowning in debt or financially unstable may not be in the right headspace to build something with another person. A good matchmaker will gently raise this. An app will sell you a premium subscription.
Your hope. This might be the most insidious thing. Dating apps are engineered to keep you in a loop; just enough hope to stay, just enough disappointment to keep swiping. Professional matchmaking is built on the belief that you will find the right person, and every step of the process is oriented toward that outcome. We want you to feel hopeful, not addicted.
Every Person Is Finite. Dating Apps Pretend Otherwise.
Here’s something the infinite scroll was specifically designed to make you forget: there are only so many people in the world who are actually right for you.
Think about what you actually need in a partner. Not just attraction: but gender, sexual orientation, political values, religious beliefs, ethnicity, income level, lifestyle choices, where they want to live, whether they want kids. The moment you start layering real preferences on top of each other, the pool narrows dramatically. That’s not a problem. That’s reality.
Dating apps sell the illusion of abundance. Thousands of profiles, endless options, surely someone in there is right for you. But abundance isn’t the same as compatibility. You can swipe through ten thousand people and still not find one who shares your values, your faith, your vision for the future. The sheer volume actually works against you; it creates the feeling that you can always keep looking, so you never commit to actually finding.
In a matchmaking model, every single human being in our network carries real weight. Each person represents a finite, irreplaceable combination of qualities that may or may not match with someone else we know. We don’t treat people like they’re interchangeable. We can’t afford to, and more importantly, they aren’t.
This is why we invest in the people in our network. Not just as clients, but as human beings whose lives and wellbeing directly affect the lives of everyone we introduce them to. A person who isn’t taking care of themselves isn’t just limiting their own options; they’re affecting the experience of everyone they meet.
The Self-Induced Neglect Nobody Talks About
Here’s the hard truth: dating apps don’t force anyone to stay. People choose to hand their dating lives over to platforms that are fundamentally indifferent to their wellbeing and then wonder why nothing changes.
That’s not a technology problem. That’s self-induced neglect.
When you outsource your love life to an algorithm, you stop doing the harder, more rewarding work of actually becoming someone a great partner would want to be with. You stop asking whether you’re financially stable enough to show up without anxiety. You stop working on the emotional wounds that make you push people away. You stop investing in your health, your confidence, your sense of direction. You just… swipe. And swipe. And swipe.
The irony is that a healthier dating culture doesn’t require better apps. It requires people who are willing to take care of themselves: financially, physically, mentally and approach relationships from a place of genuine readiness rather than desperation or distraction.
That’s what matchmaking, at its best, tries to cultivate. Not just matches. A culture where people take their own lives seriously enough to show up as someone worth matching with.
What a Healthy Pool Actually Means
At Met By Nick and QUALITY, we work hard to maintain a network of people who are emotionally grounded, living full lives, and genuinely open to a real relationship — not just curious about dating. That standard isn’t just good for the individuals in our network. It’s good for every single person we introduce them to.
When you work with us, you’re not being thrown into an ocean of strangers. You’re being introduced to people we know, people we’ve vetted, people who are in a similar place in life and want similar things. The quality of that pool is something we protect actively: because our reputation, our business, and frankly our integrity depend on it.
Two brands, one philosophy: people deserve to be treated like human beings — not metrics. Dating apps can’t say any of that. And they never will.
Met By Nick is a professional matchmaking service operating across North America. If you’re curious whether you’re ready to work with a matchmaker, take our Dating Burnout Assessment and find out where you actually stand.
